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- Langley, Virginia

"Do you need anything else besides coffee, Mister Kershaw?"

"No, thank you, Darcy, I'm fine. Have a good evening."

"You too, Mister Kershaw."

I watch briefly as my secretary is gently closing the door of my office and allow myself a small smile. Never underestimate the value of a good secretary - they are rare to find. Making coffee, keeping your appointment book up to date, blocking unnecessary phone calls or visitors and having aspirin ready whenever needed. Organizing and reminding you of anything important - sometimes including buying presents for you as I have to admit to my shame. And many, many other things. Yes, pearls like Darcy are hard to find.

Shoving these thoughts aside I look at my watch - past ten p.m. already - and then back down at the file in front of me. I press my lips together and bite back a sigh. I do not sigh. I do NOT sigh. I'm in control. I'm the one who makes the rules others have to live with. The logical one. The planner. The manipulator. I have always been, will always be. It's in my blood. That's why I'm sitting on this chair. That's why I'm CIA. That's why I'm the one responsible.

I trace the edge of the brown folder with my index finger then open it in a quick decision. His photograph is right there on the first page. Showing him younger than he is now. Looking directly in the camera, almost challenging. One of those photos probably anybody has in some closet - safely locked away. Showing oneself young and fearless and ready to take on the whole world. Unfortunately the world isn't very fond of that sometimes. And despite my resolve the sigh escapes my lips.

What am I going to do with you Clayton Webb? What am I going to do?

Or maybe: What have I done?

Sitting back in my chair I take off my glasses and clean them with a tissue. The last one, that's a good question really. Maybe I've made a mistake. It seldom happens - at least I pride myself so - but I'm not infallible. Not at all. And this time another man paid my dues. Webb. Maybe I had wanted too much. Too fast. Too rough. Maybe it was my biggest mistake to send Webb out in the field ... the cold. Maybe I overestimated the man. Or underestimated the forces I allowed to pull on him. And God, the pressure we put him under was monstrous.

Despite what people might think Webb has never been a field operative from the start. Many of us aren't. Heck, I have never been a field agent in the classic meaning. Undercover. Long time undercover - not just using a fake name for meeting a contact. Those people are necessary. They take most of the risk. But equally important are those planning a mission, patiently putting together tiny bits of facts and rumors to form the big picture, considering thousands of things which could go wrong, providing back-up and reacting to new information. Giving those outside a possibility to ACT instead of just to REACT. Besides ... field operatives are normally ... expendable.

Again I trace a finger along the file on my desk and put my glasses back on. I don't give much about descent but even I have to admit that Webb's background is impressive. His father, Neville, was a good agent but right from the start I was intrigued by Porter Webb, the woman he married and who had worked as a code-breaker for the NSA. More than once the thought occurred to me that she would have gone far in the Agency. She could even sit on my chair now ... but it had been impossible. Not at that time. Women hadn't been considered as ... appropriate. It's a shame she sure would have had the brain. And the determination.

And Webb is a true son of his mother although he looks like his father. He has her wits, her sarcastic sense of humor. Her sharp tongue and independent mind. Might have something to do with the fact that Porter raised him almost alone because Neville was seldom around and then disappeared one day. Sometimes I wonder if we will ever know the whole truth about what happened. I have my doubts and maybe this way it's better for everybody no matter how hard it was - and is - for his family. Especially his wife.

I know Porter was opposed to her son's choice of work and nudged him gently towards the NSA when it became clear that he was doomed to follow in his father's footsteps. Well, Tim Fawkes did a good job on recruiting him to the Agency. Webb's skills had been too obvious to be wasted. Fawkes became Webb's mentor - in the way WE use this word - and did a really good job there too. He was ordered to test our new purchase to full extend and he did.

As I turn the page I purse my lips. Despite the fact that Webb wasn't destined to be a field agent he spent most of his first time in the Agency outside of the States. It had to do with Fawkes' position at that time and it was an unusual but successful training for him. He learned some tough lessons back then. Hard lessons but he learned them well. Maybe better than I or anyone realized. And he started to show skills that predestined him to get the cover job in the State Department as our agent there had to be moved.

One intriguing thing about Clayton Webb was that he was prepared to do anything to get a job done. Literally: whatever it took. If it was necessary to crawl to some pompous jerk he crawled. Sometimes you would not have been surprised if he had left a wet trace. And the next moment - as soon as he had achieved whatever he wanted - he was able to get up, dust off his knees, straighten his tie and chew out a man twice his size, bringing the poor guy to the verge of tears. Oh, yes, his sarcasm has been his weapon ... and his shield.

Well, and above that he showed some really nice administrative talent. It enabled him to fill the 'cover job' of a Special Assistant to the Undersecretary of the State Department as a second full-time job. I guess State was rather pleased with the package they got. Of course the workload strained his time and stamina to the utmost but he never complained. He simply turned on the light in his office when it got dark outside ... except he had an appointment with his mother.

But what caught my eye most was his ability to see possibilities in situations - even in unexpected interventions of so-called experts - and to turn them to his own advantage. That's rare. As rare as a good secretary. His ego sometimes got in the way in the beginning but that happens and he learned quickly to take any opportunity he got. Whoever, whatever and however. In that point Webb had absolutely no shame. Sometimes the outcome was rather ... unusual but well, unpredictability is a constant in our line of work.

Yes, maybe that quality was most responsible for his quick rise in the Agency. His ability to persuade people into doing things, to find the right people to get a job done. To deal with their attitudes and spur them on no matter how, pushing their buttons ... hard. He himself wasn't multi-talented. He didn't need to be. I mean what are expert there for? Any kind of experts? But he was good, very good at coordinating things and considering any possible outcome before putting a plan in action ... as far as that's possible in intelligence business. It's not a science we DO live of rumors and gossip and guessing even in our days. We can only try to be as thorough as possible.

My eyes fall on a special line and involuntarily I shake my head. Oh, yes, Clayton Webb was good at the planning part ... but he had to face some disasters too. The first place definitely takes that mess with the Declaration of Independence. But who on earth would have expected that some insane marines - our OWN people - would raid the transport using a helicopter? Thank God, it all worked out after Webb involved the niece of the leader of those criminals. A major of the corps too, conveniently a JAG officer - it had been impossible to exclude JAG from the investigation.

Slowly I tap the page as I frown. That special incident caused the first contact between Webb and the Judge Advocate General Department of the Navy ... and Harmon Rabb, Jr. ... and Sarah Mackenzie. Sometimes it would really be an advantage to know the future. Well, on second thought it's better we didn't or some people - including myself - would have had a fit in advance considering the outcome over the next nine years. As I scan through the file I find more than one operation that was ruined by JAG interventions. And more than one embarrassing revelation for the Agency.

Nevertheless, as I flip back and forth through the pages right now I have to admit that the encounters with JAG were the exception - not the rule. And more important there had been only few intentional contacts from Webb's side. No doubt he used them for his own purposes when the opportunity occurred - as I said he's good at finding possibilities - and due to his field of work and JAG's duties it's no wonder there had been overlaps between them. But more often JAG - or better Rabb - had turned to him for help and information. Obviously the commander was good at using opportunities too.

But besides one case where Webb gave Rabb the job as an escort for Princess Alexandra - whatever had gotten into him to do that I will never understand; misplaced gratitude for something? - I can only come up with two missions he involved them directly and not by coincidence. It was the same year he was actually willing to sacrifice Rabb and Mackenzie in Russia while Rabb was on a crazy quest for his father. Well, of course, at that time Webb was acting more ruthless than his usual self. A kind of compensation for the fact that his mentor Fawkes had been kidnapped in Italy right in front of his eyes.

Involuntarily a second sigh escapes my lips. Heaven's yes, Webb pulled some rather crazy stunts to get Fawkes back. He almost destroyed his career. But I must admit his ability to persuade people into helping him was once more intriguing. I mean Admiral Chegwidden broke his nose in Russia and threatened to do it again if necessary. That man has such an appalling temper... A temper we were counting on when we informed him 'unofficially' about Webb's 'death' on that freighter in Baltimore some months earlier.

Hmm, I guess sometimes you simply have to try a problem from a different angle and that was one of those cases. My predecessor in this position noticed quickly that Webb's record had been manipulated so the teeth analysis identified one of the bodies as his ... a disturbing discovery. Webb himself had had neither possibility nor reason to do it. In fact he had no clue that he was officially 'dead' until he called his mother in an attempt to find a safe way to the Agency without alarming the mole ... or moles. Of course this demonstration of power was a great encouragement to him to hide even better. Well, pulling JAG headquarters in had the desired effect ... to plug our hole and make sure it was done thoroughly. After that incident it became clearer why Webb was so willing to put up with the annoying attitudes of these people: They WERE good, just uncontrollable.

But maybe another factor was that he had found kindred spirits in them.

I fold my hands and rest my chin on them while I stare down at the file. Oh, yes, Webb's acquaintance with JAG headquarters in Falls Church and especially Harmon Rabb, Jr. definitely stimulated a special part of his personality. Despite his ruthless behavior or intentional lack of manners Webb never gave up an unusual independent and sometimes critical viewpoint on his work. Porter's influence? Her genes? Anyway, he was always very careful to consider an order and the facts and reasons around it before he threw all his restless energy into a mission. Oh, he never rejected a case that was given to him but it could happen that the result had nothing to do with what his superiors initially had in mind.

I just think of one incident when a case of friendly fire during a training mission let some of our people to believe in a Cuban infiltration. Through coincidence I was around when Webb got orders to have a look in it. Vividly I can remember his slightly raised brows as he commented dryly: "Cuba?" He was clearly having none of it. But I bet he had lots of fun jerking the Navy's chain including half of JAG headquarters' and SecNav Nelson's with his deadpan remarks on that ship.

This independency got Webb more than once into trouble - with or without JAG. Luckily for him, his successes had more weight and he got away with things that should have ended his career.

You can argue if that was the best course of action but it was definitely to our advantage. Webb really handled everything. After he had been ordered back from that job at State he was our man for messed up situations. Most of the time he coordinated things from Washington but still, we spared him nothing. And again he shouldered everything we threw at him including some really annoying administrative tasks like budget meetings etc. - an inevitable accompaniment to promotion I guess.

Until one day changed everything.

Webb didn't protest when we put him down in rank. He knew an assistant deputy director was able to do more things than a deputy director. Different things. Things ... that could be compromising for the Government. This is how it works in my world. We make our own rules and I believe in them. But sometimes late at night ... it can happen I look in the mirror and ... wonder. I just ... wonder.

Reaching out abruptly I grab the coffee pot and pour myself a fresh cup. I do not have doubts. I can't allow them. I can't afford them. It was Webb's first mistake to be shaken by some of the things he saw in Afghanistan. Or maybe it was my first mistake to put him there. Webb had very carefully stayed away from special things ... maybe he knew his limits better than I did.

Anyway, he was still on a rather safe level of field work but involved in rougher environments than before. And once more he didn't disappoint our expectations, masked his doubts - if he had them already at this point - and showed nothing but determination to do his best. But then he chose the worst time for another demonstration of his independence as he gave Rabb the Angel Shark videotape.

Damn Webb for his bad timing. He would have got away with it if it hadn't been so close to the Senate hearing about the Kabir incident that Watts was still running around with raised hair. Damn Watts for tempting Webb as he did by having him talk to Rabb - Webb has too much a history of need-to-know and uncertainty about fathers. Damn me for not having seen it coming.

There our second mistake happened: To not only send Webb to Suriname with a severe demotion but also to order the station chief to make it tough for him. Heck, Watts was angry, I was angry. We wanted to teach Webb a lesson he'd never forget and once and for all break his independence down to a bearable level. Unfortunately we pushed too far.

We pushed too far.

To be continued...